


Make the Yuletide Gay (Themed)

by motor_function_failures_inc



Category: Rizzoli & Isles
Genre: Christmas Cookies, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motor_function_failures_inc/pseuds/motor_function_failures_inc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jane attempts to pull some fast ones, but Maura knows her too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make the Yuletide Gay (Themed)

**Author's Note:**

> Characters don't belong to me, I make no profit.

There was a moment, when Jane knew she could make her exit from the living room and retreat to the relative safety of the couch to watch TV.

It was a moment that she realized was passing in the happening of it.

For reasons beyond her current understanding, that moment sauntered by about forty-five minutes ago and she was now poised with one foot stuck off the edge of the topmost rung of the ladder for balance as she attempted to affix an angel with gilded wings to the top of the tree. Wings which were scratching her hand, and she'd bet money on was made with actual gold.

Apparently, according to Maura, it is just _appalling_ at how much it was tilting to one side, and it must be fixed.

Jane had half a mind to ask if the rich folk gnomes are keeping a tally of how many imperfections in her holiday decorations Maura Isles has in her house. She really wants to know if there are demerits.

Mostly because she's caused or intentionally created about eight (nine on a technicality) in the last four days, just to see how long it took Maura to notice. The angel was by far the shortest living attempt in Jane's game, but she blames that solely on visibility reasons and not on lack of originality on her part.

"Just a little bit more to the left, Jane." Maura pleaded gently, "And be careful to maintain your balance, you're quite high; the probability of how you would land has multiple possibilities that could include serious injury."

Jane exhaled a breath hard through her nose, her eyes rising to the ceiling in frustration, "Just tell me when he's straight, Maur. The sooner you let me stop getting poked in the ear by this tree, the sooner I will be safely on the ground."

Maura clucked her tongue but remained otherwise silent. Jane took this to mean "carry on," and tilted the angel a little more, her brow furrowing more with each quarter inch.

This whole game was supposed to be far less directed at her fixing the things she was intentionally messing with and more directed at Maura getting worked up over little changes Jane kept making to all the home decorations Maura had been setting up, or asking her to help set up, as the holiday drew nearer. Things like a mis-matching, Christmas-themed, dinnerware service, or two red candles with non-complimentary height differences (yes, Maura used this phrase while shaking her head as she threw out the shorter one, a look of actual disdain on her face).

And how was she to know that Maura's neighbors would call the police when the outdoor Christmas lights wouldn't stop blinking after 9pm?

Jane had struggled to explain her way out of appearing guilty for that one. Maura had eyeballed her silently for a good five minutes from behind the kitchen island while Jane had sweated and kept her hands in her pockets for fear of Italian flailing.

She'd realized that at some point Maura had figured that the more Jane gesticulated the guiltier she usually was.

So here she was, pushing the angel to its upright and locked position so that Maura wouldn't think she had intentionally made it cockeyed. She was idly wondering how long it would take Maura to notice the three rainbow candy canes she had randomly put on the tree to intermix with the red and white striped ones when Maura called out,

"Perfect! Please come down!"

Jane gently let go of the angel and clambered down quickly.

Once safely back on solid (and recently resurfaced) flooring, Jane pinched the supports for the ladder up and collapsed the legs, hoisting the ladder up a little off the floor, her right arm rising above her head to stabilize it as she turned and began the retreat to the back entryway, where Maura preferred to keep it. Flicking her gaze over to Maura, she caught the normally demure woman eyeing the sliver of skin now exposed from where her shirt had ridden up.

"Eyes up, Isles. Someone's gotta keep watch over that batch of cookies you've left perilously unattended in the oven," Jane quipped, enjoying the blush that rose up Maura's neck and onto her cheeks as she exited the room.

As she put the ladder against the wall, she idly wondered when Maura would notice the crude cookie shapes she had thrown onto the sheet before shutting the oven door earlier. Those she knows Maura will blame on her, but that was the point of the prank, as it was definitely something Maura would expect of her. Gotta keep up appearances and all that.

"Jane, they have at least three more minutes left to bake, you weren't up on the ladder that long," Maura remarked even as she turned to walk back over to the kitchen area and checked the timer, humming contently when she saw she was apparently close enough to accurate for her satisfaction.

"Gotta keep you focused, you did set a bake goal, after all," Jane replied as she made her way back into the dining area.

Maura scoffed and tilted her head towards Jane, an eyebrow raised at her, "It was made so that you won't eat all of the cookies, and so that I have something to bring to the Holiday Bake Sale this year."

Jane pursed her lips before rolling them in to drag across her teeth in thought. She may have eaten all of the cookies before Maura could bring them in to the precinct last year. Her mother still won't let her forget it, and reminds her at every holiday.

Exhaling as she tilted her head back on her shoulders, Jane murmured, "Point," to the ceiling before grabbing her abandoned beer on the kitchen island by the neck and bringing it to her lips for a long pull.

Maura hummed in agreement before turning at the sound of the buzzer going off. Grabbing the oven mitts, she asked over her shoulder, "Would you pull out another cooling rack?"

Jane put her beer down and began moving around Maura, a mitt coming down to swat at her hands as she opened the cabinet to Maura's left.

"What? You asked for help!" Jane's brows were near her hairline, she knew it.

Maura shut off the buzzer with a press of the button and looked over at Jane as she pulled the mitts on, "Wash your hands first, Jane. You know that ladder is dirty."

"See, this? This is why they whisper 'whipped' around the precinct. Maur, c'mon, it's a cooling rack. I'm not gonna rub my hands all over it," Jane nearly stomped her foot in frustration.

"Considering the things you do to me inside the bedroom, Jane, I really wouldn't worry too much about what people whisper about us at work." Maura remarked idly as she removed the tray from the oven.

That got her attention. Jane stood up straight, cooling rack dangling forgotten in one (dirty) hand.

Maura tsk'd and chucked off one of the mitts onto the island, dropping the tray onto it before removing the other one. Moving over to Jane, she pressed her body up against Jane's side, her hand sliding along and around her hips, "Besides, you much prefer what I whisper _to_ you, wouldn't you agree?"

Jane felt her jaw unlock and her lips part in shock. Dragging in a ragged breath, Jane began to let a soft, "Jesu…," out when the cooling rack was plucked from her hands and Maura was suddenly gone.

Jane remained silent for a few extra moments, listening to Maura hum a carol quietly to herself while she prepared another tray.

"You're real pleased with yourself for that one, aren't you?" Jane squinted her eyes slightly in Maura's direction.

Maura turned to look at a Jane, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Letting a lascivious wink drop, she turned back to the cookies.

"Now get over here and help me make some of these and don't make too many penises this time."

_fin_


End file.
